Push(92)

“Normal, huh? Well, if that’s the case, then I guess the same could be said for me,” I tease. David’s body straightens, and his chest rises, and then he looks down at the floor. What? His happiness is gone, just like that, and now he looks ashamed. It catches me by surprise, and suddenly, everything seems very serious. I feel as if I should apologize, but I’m not sure what for.
“I’m sorry,” I say as he looks back up at me. “I was just teasing. Look, it’s clear that both of us have very valid reasons for being a few coils short of a Slinky, but I say we embrace it.” I plaster an overly dramatic smile across my face and give him two enthusiastic thumbs up. “I say we run with our crazies, and to hell with everybody else.”
He chuckles softly and sinks his hands into his pockets. He regards me intently for a minute before he replies. All I can do is smile at him and wait.
“I can’t tell you how unbelievably relieved I am to hear you say that we’re all right,” he says at last. “I thought I’d f*cked everything up. When you shoved my phone in my face and said that you saw Michael’s number, I swear my heart stopped beating. I thought we were done. I thought the bottom dropped out, and you were gonna walk. That’s what always happens with me. The bottom drops out, and everything that was good ends. Just like that.” His eyes are back on the floor.
“The bottom isn’t going to drop out on us, David,” I say with the compassion and reassurance he so clearly needs, “because I love you. And now that I know what love is, I can see that it makes you willing to do anything to make sure that the bottom stays intact. It makes you forgive the other person for their mistakes. It makes you see past their crazies and their f*cked-up past and their underwear fetish and their gun-toting, drug-addicted ex-girlfriends and their complete lack of self-preservation.” He looks up at me, and as his scalp draws back, I can see acceptance spread across his face. “And what you don’t realize, David, is that you already know all that. You know it because what you tried to do to Michael was meant to keep the bottom intact.”
David pulls his hands out of his pockets and steps forward. He holds my cheeks and leans his forehead against mine. His palms feel cool against my warm skin, and a moment later, when his mouth covers mine, I feel as if I am wrapped in a cyclone. Everything is whirling around me, drawing the air out of my lungs and filling me with the best kind of turmoil. Sweet, unpredictable, endorphin-releasing turmoil. Every time his tongue slides against mine, a prickle in my gut tells me how right we are together. How much I need David. How much I need us.
I hope the cyclone never stops.
He picks me up and carries me back to the bedroom, kissing my neck and shoulders as he walks and then dropping me down on to the bed. I watch as he tugs off my clothes, and all I can think about is how his actions have served to tether my heart to his, to fasten me to him with a braided rope of protection and covetousness and insanity. Everything he did was for me. To keep a secure grip on what we have. To keep the bottom intact.
I unbutton his jeans and slide them down over his hips and then lie back on to the bed. David climbs up over me so that we are face-to-face, and the length of his body is pressing down over mine. His mouth is on me again, our lips full of promises.
David moves slowly down my torso, spreading kisses across my breasts and my stomach, heating me. He slides off me and sits on the edge of the bed, turned in my direction. His hands move over my skin, inciting a ticklish giggle when he streaks them up my inner thighs. But I stop laughing when his fingers hit their mark, when they start their skillful torture, when they move into me. A melody of emotions sweep over me. It’s a heady mix of lust and appreciation and elation and love. It makes me want to reach into myself and hand him my heart, beating with devotion and tethered to his.
I take him into my hand, pushing and pulling his hardness. We are there together, each of us using our hands to lift the other closer. Each of us with coarse breath and singing blood. A few moments later, my body bows up with gratification, curling into itself as I grunt and fold with pleasure. His fingers don’t stop until my body stills.
David gets up and pulls me up off the bed. My muscles are still reverberating as I stand next to him. I’m afraid that I might fall, but David wraps himself around me, holding me steady. We kiss again, and I stroke him, feeling the warmth of his skin. His breath is weighted, and he turns me around, lifting my leg on to the edge of the bed. He presses on the middle of my back until I bend forward and brace myself on the bed. David grips my waist and then I feel the delightful pressure of him entering me. He pulls me on to him over and over, my rear smacking into him with each pull and my arms pushing down on the mattress. His hand dips down between my legs, rubbing me in all the right ways. I force my behind out against him until once again, I topple over the edge. My loud, rough groan hits the air, and David pulls out of me.
“Goddamn, I love to hear that,” he says, his voice dredged in desire. “One more, Emma. Let’s go.”
I turn over and lie down on my back, the melody of emotions still singeing my skin. He lifts my legs up on to his shoulders, raising my rear up off the bed and sliding himself into me. I look at his face and see the power rising there, burning behind his eyes. His eyes meet mine, and a wisp of a smirk touches the corners of his mouth. He wants to watch this time, and the idea of it chokes me with desire. I reach down and touch myself, sliding my fingers across my own wetness, closing my eyes, feeling him move in and out of me. It feels really f*cking good. We feel really f*cking good. I can’t stop myself, and I come again, shouting a loud string of happy obscenities. Making my mind shimmer.